Vacillate
by DigitalStoryteller
Summary: Vacillate: waver between different opinions or actions; be indecisive. For Apollo, a second opinion can be really helpful sometimes. Oneshot.


Courtroom 4 was empty save for Apollo Justice. He was at the defence bench, gazing calmly ahead. The courtroom could be intimidating, with a populated gallery staring down at you, the vicious prosecution watching you shrewdly and the judge on his dais, observing proceedings.

Apollo decided it was far more terrifying when the courtroom was unoccupied. A vast, gaping space. It felt wrong.

The room fractured. Its tall pillars toppled over. The floor cracked and broke apart. Fragments of the roof plummeted onto it. Glass shards from above fell like snowdrops. The jagged, transparent debris shattered upon impact against the marble floor. Small fires crackled, becoming dimmer and dimmer, on the verge of being snuffed out.

Apollo's vision swam. He pressed his hands on the bench to hold himself up. He blinked. Bandages ensnared his arms and tightened, wrapping his fingers, wrists, elbows and all in between.

His left eye was blinded. Apollo slapped a palm to his brow and traced the eyepatch with his fingers.

A coat that was once not there was now draped over Apollo's shoulders. The HAT-2 jacket that belonged to Clay Terran.

'Why am I here again?' wondered Apollo. 'This already happened, it's over.'

"Is it over?" questioned a booming voice, its words rebounding off the walls.

On alert, Apollo snapped his head. "Who said that? Show yourself!"

"No."

"No?" Apollo repeated questioningly. "You mean you won't? Or you can't?"

"Both."

"Fan-frikkin'-tastic." Apollo threw his hands up in the air. He circled the defence bench and stepped into the middle of the courtroom. He looked up.

'The moon… it's another reminder for me. He should be up there, living his dream, not in a coffin six feet under…'

"You have doubts."

Apollo whirled around with his coat flapping, his eye blazing. "No. No, I don't! I don't care who you think you are, but don't even try convincing me I'm still unsure about Clay's death, because I'm sure. I am very, very _certain_."

His face broke into a false grin. "Look at me," he chuckled, "talking to someone who isn't even here… Am I going nuts?"

"No. You're considering, analysing, thinking," the voice spoke. "Do you think you'd make a difference if you were there, on that night?"

"How can you even ask that?" croaked Apollo. "Of course it would! I'm his friend, I'd save him!"

"Were his friend. You _were _his friend. Now he's gone."

"Yeah, now he is… now he absolutely is…" Apollo looked down. "He shouldn't have died, he didn't deserve it…"

"Bad things happen to good people all the time. Clay is simply the next in a long, long list."

"You're so clinical about this that I can't fricking believe it…" Apollo muttered.

"Face reality," was the harsh reply. "Or are you still clinging on to the hopeless illusion you could've changed events?"

Apollo glowered at the barely-visible outline of the moon.

"Let's find out."

It felt like the world was spinning beneath him. Apollo felt himself run with the ground.

The courtroom folded out of existence and was substituted with a semi-cylindrical structure high above the ground. Dizzy and disorientated, Apollo collapsed on his knees. His head was spinning. He swept his gaze over the curved windows, the crimson lights in the ceiling and the blinking 'EMERGENCY' sign.

The Launch Pad Corridor. Turning his head, Apollo saw an inferno erupt in the distance. He clambered to his feet.

'The night of the disaster!' he realised. And in front of the sea of flames, two figures with dark helmets and orange suits. Clay Terran and Solomon Starbuck!

"Clay! Clay! Are you alright?" roared the brunette over the deafening klaxon. "Clay!?"

The astronaut in question took no notice of him. In fact, Clay passed straight through Apollo. Matter blended with more matter. Apollo sensed nothing. He _saw_ what was happening, but his network of nerves were broadcasting nothing.

The two astronauts continued down the corridor, one supporting the other.

"Ah, the cruel tricks the mind can play…"

Apollo whirled round. "What was the whole point of that?!"

"You know what the point was. You acknowledge it. However, can you bring yourself to admit it?"

Apollo reached for his head. He began undoing the knot holding the eyepatch in place. Revealing his other eye, he flung the bandage on the floor. Layer by layer, his arms were relieved of the white covering. He shrugged the jacket off and it fell into a pile of blue behind him.

"You are trying to say I should move on. Honour his memory, but don't allow myself to get swamped in grief."

"Naturally. It is unhealthy for the mind and body to become so focused on such a devastating tragedy. Dangerous, perhaps even. Suicidal."

Apollo gave a derisive snort. "You really think I've sunk so low that I've considered the possibility of… of ending my own l-life…

"…you must really have low expectations for me," he finished.

"Now, who's the one sounding clinical?" taunted the voice.

Apollo simmered quietly. "Why are you doing this? Who are you? What do you want from me?!"

"Doesn't matter. I need to make sure you learn an important lesson."

The Launch Pad Corridor blurred. Silver and glass turned to grey and grass. Rows of upright stones surrounded Apollo. All of them bore a name and an inscription.

Graveyard. He was in a graveyard. A compilation of letters caught his eye and he let his knees buckle.

CLAY TERRAN.

Reaching out, Apollo placed a hand on the tombstone. He pressed his forehead against the cold surface.

"I was here, days ago," he whispered. Apollo raised his head. "…Why did you bring me here?"

Silence. An all-encompassing, devastating silence. Even the wind stilled.

"Stand up, Justice." It was not the Voice (he was capitalising it now?) that answered, but someone familiar. Apollo glanced over his shoulder, then did a double take.

"Mr Gavin?!"

"Yes, quite the one," replied the bespectacled blonde man who was once his mentor. Kristoph Gavin wore his standard suit.

Apollo rose and faced him. "What're you doing here? You should be in prison."

"That's the least of your concerns right now. You should be worried about your friends. About what I'm going to do to them," drawled the attorney once known as the Coolest Defence in the West.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare hurt them!" Apollo yelled. He stormed towards Gavin.

"One by one, they will drop like flies. First the girl, then the Forger, and lastly her. The Courtroom Revolutionaire, the Gifted Psychologist. They will all die, and there'll be nothing you can do about it. Because you won't see it coming," vowed Kristoph.

Apollo seized Gavin by his lapels. "It won't happen. I won't let it happen."

Kristoph gazed calmly at the brunette. "Are you sure about that?"

Apollo snarled, and drew back a fist. "Positive," he growled. Before he could land a punch, a shockwave threw him off his feet. Kristoph Gavin's features morphed into something demonic. His eyes became pits of lava, caustic and yellow. His angelic face cracked and turned pale as a limestone statue. The hideous scar on his hand was now a full-on dark tattoo. Platinum blonde hair sizzled and burned.

"You had potential, Justice. Sadly, you were taken away to be groomed by that buffoon of a blundering lawyer." Kristoph's voice was distorted and it had deepened.

On his back, Apollo roared up at Kristoph, "He is twice the lawyer and twice the man you'll ever be, Gavin!"

Kristoph stepped towards Apollo, who was getting up. "Funny words to describe a manipulator."

"You were a million times worse! What you did to Trucy, what you did to Vera, what you did to Mr Wright, you deserve far worse than comfy Solitary Cell 13!" Apollo started backing away.

"Crossing me is a very foolish mistake."

"Shut up you ego-obsessed narcissist!" Apollo replied.

"Such an original comeback. Tell me Justice, are you going to fight back with words? Let me remind you – we are not in a courtroom."

"That doesn't matter! Nothing you'll do will shake me because –"

Kristoph snapped his bony fingers. An echo of thumps rang throughout the cemetery.

Bodies hit the ground. Apollo peered over a tombstone. It was Mr Wright, lying face-down in the dirt. Apollo rushed over to him. He crouched and shook Mr Wright by the shoulders. He didn't stir. "Mr Wright? Mr Wright! Come on, Mr Wright, this isn't funny! Wake up!"

A blue top hat on its side caught his attention. Apollo approached its owner. "Trucy…?" he called tentatively. "Truce…" She looked so peaceful, just resting there. Apollo checked her pulse.

Nothing.

"Shit…"

Nearby, a yellow-sleeved arm was clinging to a tombstone. Kristoph smirked and watched as Apollo approached the prone form of Athena Cykes.

"Athena… Oh, Athena…" He knelt beside the redhead and rested her head in his lap. He placed a hand on her cheek. Apollo exhaled, miserable. He laid Athena's head on the grass and loosened her grip from the tombstone. On that tombstone it read 'METIS CYKES'. He considered giving Athena a quick kiss then thought better of it. Let the dead rest in peace.

Apollo got up. "…Damn you."

He locked gazes with Gavin. "You want to know something? I _will make sure _that this," Apollo pointed to Athena, Phoenix and Trucy, "will never, ever _actually_ happen. Not because of you, not because of anyone."

"What noble intentions you have, Justice," Kristoph flashed a predatory grin before his form collapsed into dust. Apollo checked the bodies around him. They were also dissipating into nothing.

"Such determination...it's ironic, really. How you failed one friend already." The Voice was back.

Apollo ignored the barb. "Well you took a nice little break," he responded breezily, tucking his hands in his pockets.

The Voice commented, "You handled that very well."

"Any particular reason I'm forced to do this?" Apollo gestured around wildly with his arms. "Prancing around from place to place so I can see… what, exactly?"

"So that you may come to a realisation."

"And what would that be?"

"You'll know in due time."

"Cheers. Just –_ thanks for all the shit_ you're putting me through," Apollo grunted.

"You're quite welcome."

Apollo shook his head and gave a dismissive wave.

The cemetery shimmered, then vanished. Skyscrapers burrowed through the pavement and rose. Street lights flickered on, providing an artificial glow.

What would be a normally busy street in LA was deserted. No cars, no traffic lights, no manholes, no people.

Apollo was starting to get impatient. "What is this?"

"Hey, 'Pollo!" Apollo turned slowly and came face-to-face with a raven-haired man waving at him.

"Sup, my No.1 lawyer. Been ages since we saw each other," Clay laughed and quickly hugged Apollo.

Flabbergasted, he stared in confusion. "You're dead. You're meant to be dead."

Clay looked hurt. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"I'd be happy if it was the real you."

"…The real me. Riiiight. Ha! Sorry to disappoint ya, 'Pollo, but the real me ain't gonna come back," Clay sighed wistfully.

"I know that," Apollo responded stiffly.

Clay put an arm around Apollo's shoulders. "Listen, 'Pollo, you're right. This is all you imagining things. Because you miss me and my awesomeness."

"I do miss you," admitted Apollo. "A lot."

"It's cool, man, it's okay," his friend consoled him.

"No it's not okay!" Apollo exploded, tearing himself away from Clay. "I should've been there with you, in your last passing moments! That's what best friends do! We stay with each other till the end!"

"Don't beat yourself up over it," said Clay. "You did the right things at least. You made sure your psychology gal didn't get falsely convicted. You got my killer locked away. You should be congratulating yourself. That deserves more than a pat on the back."

"And yet you're gone. Forever. Wait, Athena's not my…"

"You sure want her to be, though," Clay grinned. "Anyway – damn, dunno what I'd actually say if… if…"

"It's fine. I don't know what you'd say, too."

"Really? Well there's a change from the smartass I know." Clay smiled sadly. "Have a good life, Apollo. Don't forget me, but at the same time… don't be overwhelmed by my awesomeness!" He gave a two-fingered mock salute.

Apollo laughed. 'Sounds like typical Clay. Full of himself, and a good laugh, too.'

Clay shifted into smoke and the mist plummeted though the grating at Apollo's feet.

"What a lovely fantasy. Think it made me tear up a bit…"

Apollo scowled. "Shut up."

"Hmmm, no. I don't believe I'm quite finished yet," the Voice purred menacingly. "And since you're indulging yourself in hypotheticals... Let's visit another," it took on a sinister tone, "much _louder_ scenario. Something you're very frightened of."

Apollo shot up into the sky. The surface beneath him rumbled and shook. He felt his body vibrate. He yelled in shock. When the vibrating stopped, he peered over the edge of the floor. Or rather, the edge of the roof.

He was on top of a skyscraper. The ground was a small patch far, far down below.

The building started tipping, and Apollo started slipping. "Whoa! Stop this, stop it right now!"

"Or you'll do what? Nothing is the appropriate answer. Quit struggling. It's pointless."

"I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die!" Apollo shrieked as the pavement rushed up to meet him.

"Of course you don't," taunted the Voice.

Apollo dropped his head, and sighed. The ground getting closer-closer-closer-closer-closer-closer-closer...!

"Oh shit!" he yelled. Just as he was about to end up as a splatter of red on the ground, the concrete shifted and disappeared. Everything vanished.

Apollo was freefalling. There was no sky now, no atmosphere. No recognisable objects anywhere.

"Am I just… suspended in mid-air?"

"Yes."

He plummeted in a chair. Walls were erected around him. A barrier of Plexiglas shielded Apollo, though not from what he was about to witness.

On the other side of the glass was a wooden chair. Someone was strapped to it. That someone was… himself.

Imagine seeing yourself in the mirror. Except there's something very wrong with the reflection staring back at you.

The Apollo tied to the chair was petrified. His shoulders trembled, his lips quivered, his limbs jerked against the bonds. His gelled spikes were down.

Wings flapped. A crow flew into the room, and perched on his duplicate's arm. An entire horde of crows joined the first one.

Then the screaming began. All those crows, they started pecking at the duplicate's face, stabbing their beaks into his eyes.

"Oh hell..." Apollo slapped his hands over his eyes to shut out the grotesque sight. But he couldn't drown out the screams and the thrashing.

"Make it stop! Somebody make it stop! Please! Aaaghhh!"

Apollo heard wings flap and his duplicate try to catch his breath. "Is it over? Thank god it's over! …Why can't I see? Oh god, why can't I see anything?! Only the darkness! Aaaaaaghhhh! Aggghhhh!"

Apollo's shoulders shook. He buried his face in his hands. Eventually, the only sound he heard was his own breathing.

He lowered his hands and saw several staircases. Rotating stairs, regular stairs, upside-down ones, descending and ascending everywhere and anywhere. Men and women were going up and down the stairs. People he knew. Phoenix Wright. Simon Blackquill. Miles Edgeworth. Juniper Woods. Ema Skye. Trucy Wright. Clay Terran. Klavier Gavin. Vera Misham. And there was also –

"Hey buddy, d'you mind moving?" Apollo stood up and over his shoulder he saw a scowling Athena with folded arms tapping her foot impatiently.

"Oh, um, right, sorry." The chair mutated into oxygen. Athena didn't even look questioningly at its disappearance.

"No problem, Apollo, it's okay to be in your own little world. But, hey, this is your own huge world. So, pick what's more important," Athena said cheerily, and smiled. Apollo walked alongside her.

"Any particular place we're going?" he asked.

"Nope, haven't chosen one," Athena replied.

"Okay… hang on, are those…?"

"Different versions of you? Uh-huh," Athena nodded.

There was Apollo in bandages, Apollo in a school uniform, Apollo in a work suit descending the stairs.

"What… Just what exactly is going on?" demanded Apollo.

"I dunno, you pick. This is all yours to control, Apollo."

"Except who can be in control of their own dreams…" he muttered.

Athena stopped walking and turned to Apollo. He stayed still and raised a brow. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned in. She closed her eyes and kissed him ardently. Apollo blushed and his ears went pink.

"Did you want that to happen?" She looked at him lovingly.

"Er, um, ah…" Apollo fumbled for words.

She laughed merrily. "It's ok, 'Pollo."

"Yeah, ok, I totally did."

"So, where to now, monsieur Justice?"

"I don't know, but I want this to stop." Apollo gazed around. "You hear me? I want this to be over with."

"I'm not her," Athena admitted freely.

"No, no you're not," agreed Apollo.

"When are you going to actually give it a go? Ask her out?" Athena questioned.

"I… don't know. When I'm comfortable asking."

He got a smile from 'Athena' at that and she turned to smoke.

Bit by bit, everything folded away. The stairs, the people. All there was left was white.

Infinite white. No walls, no ceiling, no floor.

Apollo heard footsteps. To his right, he saw a mirror image of himself approaching. Except, all his clothes were darker in tone.

"So introspective…" said the duplicate.

"No oxygen, no floor…" Apollo tested the hardness of the 'floor' with a jump.

"Indeed. Are you quite finished?" The duplicate folded his arms behind his back. His Voice***** now matched Apollo's perfectly.

"What important lesson did you want me to learn?" Apollo asked sardonically.

"You didn't figure it out? Such a pity." The duplicate sighed.

"Go on then, educate me," prompted Apollo.

"You need to learn not to be so afraid."

"Why? Fear keeps me on my toes. Keeps us on our toes."

"Only thing is you're far too focused and worried about Kristoph Gavin, when you don't need to be."

"I don't need to be? Don't be stupid. Even an imprisoned criminal can still be a threat. Look at what Kristoph pulled off while in Cell 13."

"Drew Misham died because of a scheme he planned months before his imprisonment. He can't hurt the people you and I care about."

"You really believe that? I don't. I'll never believe for a second. But maybe I should stop worrying so much."

"Wise words," nodded the duplicate. "Your stress levels don't need unnecessary agitation. You've got enough to put up with as it is."

"Ah, dammit, I don't know now. I hate dreaming about him. Every time he appears, something bad happens to me."

"You're looking too much into it. Stop doubting yourself so much. You are – we are – well it's the same thing, really – Apollo Justice. You've done so much and come so far."

"That meant nothing when it came to hide-and-seek with the Phantom."

"You mean that little escapade when Athena was under suspicion?"

"Yes," said Apollo.

"One small incident. It won't happen again," the duplicate gave a dismissive wave.

"But how would I know?"

"Oh, shut up, you over-questioning idiot."

No," Apollo snarled, then throttled his clone. "You listen to me, and listen well. I have to make sure the same thing doesn't happen again…!"

"And what're you going to do? Turn everyone away? Abandon the Agency? Isolate yourself from everybody you care about?" taunted the duplicate.

"I don't know…" Apollo whispered. He slowly let go of the crimson lapels.

"This has been about what-ifs and possibilities for you. No need to get yourself worked up over hypothetical stuff."

Apollo turned away for a moment. He looked back at the duplicate. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just a big worry-wart."

"Clay used to remind me about that all the time," the duplicate laughed.

"Yeah, he totally did. …Clay…"

"R-I-P, astroboy," sighed Apollo's clone.

"Yeah, RIP."

Rifts began forming in the white space around them. The ground shook and thundered. Apollo and his clone shared a look.

**Apollo's Bedroom.**

Apollo shot up out of bed. He panted several times. His sheets were strewn all over his bed. It was pitch black. He got up and checked the window. Street lamps were dotted about on the otherwise dark street. No movement.

When Apollo turned, he saw an orb of blue light shining at him. He jumped.

"Jeez Athena! At least give a warning or something!"

Athena's Widget changed to yellow. "Sorry! …Couldn't sleep too, Apollo?"

He gave a quick shake of the head. "Nah. Too much on my mind."

"Mind if I…"

"…turn on the light switch? Sure, go ahead." Apollo nodded. The room brightened and both attorneys took a seat on the side of Apollo's bed.

"Where're you sleeping?"

"In the living room." Athena shrugged nonchalantly. "If you could call it sleeping."

"Seriously? That's probably uncomfortable. Wanna switch beds?" asked Apollo.

"S' alright, I'll be fine. I just couldn't sleep no matter how hard I tried. I keep thinking about mom, Simon – my whole life involving them."

Apollo nodded. He knew what it was like to be consumed by never-ending thoughts.

"I had a bad dream," admitted Apollo.

Athena waited for him to continue. He pondered how to explain, and opened his mouth to speak. "Doubt is my own worst enemy. Forget phantoms or Gavins, it's –"

Remembering the friendly prosecutor from the Themis Academy case, Athena wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Eh?"

"Different Gavin."

"Ah."

"Like I was saying – doubt. I've always been trying to avoid it. As a kid, I was never sure of myself, never certain or confident. So I started being impulsive. Because of my impulsiveness, I made some bad decisions (like joining Gavin's firm), some good decisions (joining the WAA, even though it didn't seem like that at first) and some terrible ones."

He looked at Athena. "Like accusing you…" he murmured.

"Doubt will always follow us. But that doesn't mean you should allow yourself to be plagued by it. There'll always be people, people who can point you in the right direction. Like Mr Wright, like –"

"Like you," said Apollo. "Sorry." He smiled wryly.

"Nice that you think so highly of me, Apollo. But seriously, don't let yourself be pulled down by it," Athena grinned.

"I don't have any intention of doing so..."

"And don't doubt yourself. I believe in you."

"Y-you do? Even during the…?"

"I knew you'd do the right thing," replied Athena cheerfully. "Find the truth, together with Mr Wright and me! Even if it took you a while."

"Er, ah, yeah, it did," he agreed.

"Anyway, look, I'm going to visit Simon tomorrow. Can you come with me? I'd really appreciate it if you did."

He couldn't say no to those imploring eyes.

"…OK."

"The more the merrier!" cheered Athena. "Thanks, Apollo!"

"Yeah, no problem. Thanks for, um, for listening to me and my – woes."

As Athena got up, she locked gazes with him. "That's what besties do. We look out for each other and listen, too. 'Night, Apollo."

"'Night, Athena."

He watched her leave and shut the door on her way out. Her faith in him didn't make his worries disappear, but it definitely subsided his fears.

And he was grateful for that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: *That capitalisation isn't an error! <strong>

**Does this oneshot need a horror tag? Because admittedly, it does get pretty dark at one point. **

**Btw, Apollo isn't afraid of crows, if that's how you were interpreting it. It's what they did to his duplicate that terrifies him.**


End file.
